Fat Romano
by Surishi
Summary: Technically, he's not really calling Romano fat. It's a name of a sandwich! T for Romano's mouth.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Hetalia. All characters used here belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.

**Warnings: **T for Romano's language. Characters might be a little OOC.

***

It was just another day.

Romano had stormed off of the board room, he was indifferent to the fact that there was still a world meeting going on because:

1-He couldn't stand being in the same room as that _potato bastard_ Germany. Germany's relationship with his younger brother, Feliciano "Veneziano" Vargas, also known as Northern Italy, sicken him. If that reason wasn't enough to deter him from the "macho potato", Germany's love for potato was another. Who could stand that god-forsaken vegetable/starch/whatever it is?

2-Spain had gone off and teased Romano again. Romano hadn't been paying attention to the conversation between the "Bad Friend Trio" which consisted of France (The perverted old man), Prussia (Who was WAY too full of himself), and Spain. Somehow, tomatoes had gotten into the little chat and Spain had bantered on about how Romano's face often looked like a tomato and how "cute" it looked.

That was the snapping point.

Romano called Spain a dumb tomato bastard and marched out of the room with fury boiling in the pits of his stomach. He heard another pair of footsteps, but his rage prevented him from turning to see who it was.

Whoever it was was asking for a beating.

He heard a short fit of laughing followed by a very...unorthodox statement.

"Fat Romano."

Romano's head whipped back violently, the fury that had somewhat died down had burned back with a vengeance.

"WHO'S THE SMARTASS WHO SAID THAT?!"

His first thought was that Spain had followed him to bring another course of public ridicule.

Romano was a bit taken back that he saw, not Spain, but the blonde, young man that was the United States of America, or also known as Alfred F. Jones. America had looked at Romano with a large, frightened expression plastered on his face.

Other than the out-of-the-ordinary facial expression that otherwise wouldn't be on the arrogant, hero-obsessed young man's face, something felt out of placed.

America wore his usual attire-tan uniform, a brown jacket, glasses.

What Romano found strange was that America didn't have a hamburger nor a large soft drink container in his hands, but a submarine-like sandwich.

Romano looked at the sandwich, confused. "What the hell is that?"

America gave a large grin and said, "It's a Fat Romano!"

Romano charged at America, about to give the blonde nation a fist full of Italian mafia when America raised his hands in front of him.

"That's not what I mean! I'm not calling YOU fat, that's just the name of the sandwich!"

Romano stopped in his place, which was only about a few feet away from America. "What?"

America raised the sandwich up to Romano's face, which triggered in Romano slightly turning his head away from the fattening smell. "Yeah, doesn't it look good? It sure tastes good! It's a sandwich from New Brunswick. It's one of a kind-it's got steak slices and egg and Taylor pork roll and french fries and lettuce and tomatoes in it!" America ranted on excitingly.

Romano's ears perked up hearing the word tomato, but the rest of the ingredients of the now half-eaten sandwich didn't sound so...Appetizing. Romano's fury was still lurking around in his innards.

"Why is it called a Fat Romano?!" Romano exclaimed angrily.

America scratched his chin, pondering the thought. "When I think about it, I'm not really sure. But c'mon, that's pretty cool, don't you think? Having a sandwich named after you?" America grinned.

Romano still wasn't satisfied. Just when Romano was about to open his mouth to make a remark about the sandwich-naming part, his brother Feliciano was walking down the halls towards them, with said sandwich in his hand.

"Ve ve nii-chan, this sandwich is really good, almost as good as pasta~" Italy said with his trademark smile and carefree attitude. "This sandwich is even named after you!"

Romano felt the veins popping out of his head. He swatted the sandwich out of his younger brother's hand, which resulted in Italy crying.

"Damn it, I'd rather had nothing named after me than have something named after me with the word 'fat' in it!"

***

**Author's Note:** It's not exactly the crack-ish comedy that most of the readers there were expecting, but I felt like writing about this. There seriously is a sandwich out there called the Fat Romano! In fact, most of the items' names were Fat ______, like Fat Buddah and Fat Phillippino (And before you start lecturing me on my spelling, I'll have you know that the sandwich is actually spelled like that. It's suppose to be a joke). I saw it on _Man vs. Food_. I kid you not. It's episode 37. It was in a greaser truck outside Rutgers University in New Brunswick, New Jersey. It consists of everything that America said; Taylor pork roll (Which is a sausage-like meat product from New Jersey), thin steak slices, over-easy egg, french fries, lettuce, and tomatoes. I don't really know why it's called the Fat Romano other than it's just suppose to be a joke, but I read a newspaper article online that the students and staff from that university found it "offensive" and wanting the names change. (That's kind of understandable, since there was a sandwich called the Fat B*tch, which was changed to the Fat Beach). It's still kind of stupid, I mean, come on, it's just a sandwich...But that's just my personal opinion. Yes, I did my research. Anyways, my first fanfiction, pretty much just drabble. Hope it didn't bore everyone too much.


End file.
